Serendipity
by brucas025
Summary: The question lingered in the air, still a sticky sweet humidity floating above their heads. All she needed to do was answer, and it would make the situation a little less suffocating. But, an answer would also leave space for more questions. BL. RateRev
1. I Feel It All

"Do you believe in fate?"

She adjusted herself on the plush velvet chair, tucking her endless legs underneath her casually. She pushed away a tendril of hair from her face, hiding it behind her ear. The feeling in the pit of her stomach was nauseating, like she'd just gotten off a storm ridden boat.

The question lingered in the air, still; a sticky sweet humidity floating above their heads. All she needed to do was answer, and it would make the situation a little less suffocating. But, an answer would also leave space for more questions.

Why was she here?

"I don't really know," she replied honestly.

**Fate **_(n)_: the supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events.

Did she believe in fate?

In times like this, when she found herself in a local café in the middle of New York City with the blonde boy who she had let go of long ago, she believed in fate.

But, if this was fate, why was she sitting on the plush velvet chair years later, apprehensively caressing the diamond ring that lay on her finger?

She pulled it off discreetly, its presence suddenly weighing down her hand. She slipped it into the bag that sat next to her, squeezed between her thigh and the arm of the velvety chair.

Keeping her eyes focused on her hands, she nervously picked at her French manicure as Lucas observed her.

"You're different."

Of course she was. It had been five years, and she had a fiancé sitting at home wondering where she was.

The message came two days earlier. She had come home from a photo shoot for _Vogue_. Her couture line, Missile, had an entire spread devoted to its creation and designer in the upcoming issue. There was even an article about Brooke that was mentioned on the cover. She had been content.

She walked into _their _lavish apartment, flushed from the November air that had been licking her face all day. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed with her favorite book, (_The Winter of Our Discontent_ by John Steinbeck) and wait for her _fiancé_ to come home.

As she reached for the novel on her desk, she noticed the usual flickering of her message machine. But for some bizarre reason, the light beckoned her today.

Normally, she would've let the flickering continue for an hour or so as she got settled into being home. She would normally trade her pencil skirt and blouse for a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, but today the flickering light beckoned her.

So, with a quick push of the flickering light, she found out that she had been chosen as "Designer of the Month" in_ InStyle_, and that Adrian was going to her beach house this weekend, did she want to come? She heard Adam's sweet voice saying how he'd be home a little late, not to worry, and she listened as he said _I love you_ in an overly-sugary manner.

But she hadn't expected to hear his voice.

She knew it was him the way he said her name.

_Brooke._

Her heart melted at the sound.

_It's Lucas._

**Her** Lucas.

_Lucas Scott._

How could he think she had forgotten him?

_I'm in New York._

_I know it's been awhile…_

Pause

…_but I thought you'd want to meet me for coffee, or something._

_Your choice, since you know this place better than me._

_Call me back?_

_(663)-873-3445._

_Hopefully I'll be seeing you._

She found herself picking up the phone. She found herself dialing his number. She found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to answer. She found herself frozen, the phone pressed to her ear, as if she was listening to Peyton whispering a secret. _Peyton_.

She found herself blushing as he answered the phone. She found herself comfortably saying, "_Hi, it's me_," even after all this time. She found herself standing in awe as he immediately knew who it was.

She found herself giving him the address of her favorite café since Karen's.

She found herself grinning from ear to ear as he promised to meet her there in two days.

She found herself giddy as she hung up the phone.

But, now that she was here, the velvet tickling her legs, she wasn't exactly sure why she had even called him back.

She looked up at him, her gold speckled eyes aligning with his piercing blue ones for the first time since they had gotten there.

"I know. So have you," she replied with a small smile.

"So, you don't think fate has anything to do with the fact that we haven't seen each other in five years, and the first time I visit New York in all that time, I'm staying a block away from your apartment?"

"No, I don't," she lied, turning her eyes to the adjacent table.

Times like this, she believed in fate.

Although she didn't realize, he could easily see past her façade. He knew her every move. When she didn't make eye contact, she was lying, or she was nervous. Nervousness was a rare thing for Brooke Davis, since she normally oozed confidence. But Lucas knew tinier things about her, too.

Like how she pouted when she wanted something. Like how her eyes lit up when he made a basket in an important game. Like how she scrunched her nose, forming tiny ripples along the bridge of it, when she was thinking. Like how she would kiss his nose when she thought he had fallen asleep before her. Like how she loved the rain because good things always happened to her during storms. Like how she had a tattoo on her hipbone of a Chinese symbol. Like how she loved when he traced it as they laid in bed just talking.

He knew it all. He remembered it all.

"How's your life, Brooke?"

What she wanted to say was, "Incomplete since we broke up," but what came out was, "Great."

He smiled at the answer, not because he was happy to hear that her life was good, but because he knew she was missing something, and that something was him.

"How's yours?"

Lucas was willing to give more than a cryptic answer.

There was so much she had missed since leaving Tree Hill all those years ago, and he was determined to make her miss her old life.

"Well, my mom and Lily are great. Lily's five now, can you believe it? James is growing up so fast, too. He loves basketball, and on Sundays, the three of us go to the park. Lily spends time on the swing set or sitting and playing with daffodils, but me and James play basketball. He's definitely Nathan's child. His room is navy and Carolina blue, for the Tar Heels. Haley's great. She and Nathan have been talking about having more kids lately. Rachel and Mouth have been spending every waking minute together that they can, but they still won't commit. I think its Rachel who's scared. Peyton and I broke up about a month after graduation. Jake came back, with Jenny, and Peyton _finally_ realized what I think I knew all along: we just weren't meant to be."

The whole thing stung Brooke, like a round of bullets targeted at her heart. But the last one burned her, searing flames on her heart. It reopened wounds of her past that she promised herself never to reopen.

"That all sounds amazing Lucas," she said sincerely. "But I asked how _your _life was."

He was taken aback at her seriousness.

What he wanted to say was, "Incomplete since we broke up," but what came out was, "Great."


	2. Something's Missing

As their coffee-"date" continued, Lucas began to wonder where the carefree, uninhibited, cheery Brooke had gone. Who was this serious stonewall sitting in front of him?

Her clothing was more conservative than ever. In a pair of black jeans with an oversized v-neck sweater, it left _everything_ up to the imagination: something Lucas was definitely not used to.

Brooke was in the middle of talking about Clothes-Over-Bros' success getting her foot in the door in the fashion world when Lucas interrupted her.

"Who are you?" he asked abruptly.

"What do you mean?" she said, taken aback.

"This isn't you. This outfit isn't you. Drinking black coffee isn't you, unless you're nursing a serious hangover. The only thing we've spoken about is fashion for the past hour, and although I love to hear about how much you've accomplished, you've done a hell of a job completely avoiding the topic of your personal life!"

How did he know? How did he have her so figured out after five years of separation?

Brooke sat there in stunned silence.

"God Brooke! I miss seeing you! I miss talking to you! And now here we are, sitting ten feet apart after five long years, and you have your walls up and your armor on thicker than ever!"

"You have _no right_ to say you missed me Lucas," Brooke retorted angrily, being sure to avoid the subject of her coldness.

"Well I did! Do you want me to lie to you? It's been five years. We were in love. Was I supposed to just get over it? Because if that's what you wanted, you might as well get up right now and leave because until the day I _die_ our history will _always_ follow me."

Brooke began to get up, infuriated by the nerve this stranger she had once known had with his forward statements. Who was he to lecture her on missing someone? Who was he to tell her to let down the guard around her heart? He had placed those walls there, this stranger.

"I know it'll always be there for you too," he said softly.

She froze midway up from the plush velvet seat and looked at him. She sunk back into the chair slowly.

"I'm engaged," she said plainly, tears stinging her eyes.

Disappointment hit Lucas in a harsh wave. It seeped into every pore in his body and ran through his bloodstream as if it were a marathon. It struck his heart and held a tight grip on it. He let out a sharp breath.

"That's great, Brooke," he said, trying to sound sincere.

The words came off his tongue jaggedly, and she could tell he was hurt. Hell, she was hurting too. This wasn't how she planned it. 5 years, 3 months ago, she had envisioned a sumptuous wedding surrounded by the friends who had become family. She had imagined the reddest roses, and her bridesmaids wearing dresses she had designed. She saw a white dress with lace on the bodice. She imagined Lucas standing next to her. She imagined Lucas promising forever.

But instead, she'd be surrounded by a bunch of strangers that Adam knew from work, a bunch of strangers that she called her friends. She would smile for the camera, but in the future, she'd look at the pictures into her own eyes and see misery instead of joy.

Joy she would've had if Peyton hadn't fallen in love with her Broody boy.

She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Why? You just told me your life was great, and if this guy…"

"_Adam_," she interrupted, feeling guilt further set in at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue.

"…_Adam_, is making you happy, then… well, then, he's a lucky guy," he smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the flattery mister," she teased. She smiled became full-fledged, _a real Brooke Davis smile,_ revealing the dimples that she had been suppressing the entire time her and Lucas had spent together.

"Now, that's my Brooke. You should never stop smiling. People would fall in love with you left and right just by seeing that smile."

Brooke let herself blush, the smile still playing on her face.

"How long are you staying for, again?" she questioned. She felt a weight lifted off her shoulders telling Lucas she had a fiancé and was now gaining back her confidence. She was as over him as she could be, she reasoned, considering he _was_ her first love. _She loved Adam_.

"Two weeks, a month at most. Depends… if you let me take you out to dinner, _as friends_," he added, seeing her expression, "then I could extend my trip."

"Dinner sounds good," she smiled. He looked into her eyes. He immediately saw the warmth in her eyes turn to iron as her armor reappeared.

"Well, Friday, my roommate from college, Drew, is taking me to this restaurant opening. His girlfriend is gonna be there, so it might be a little hard being the third wheel all night. Would you be interested in joining me?"

They both knew it sounded like a double date. Like the date where the new girlfriend meets _his_ friends, to get their approval. But Brooke chose to ignore it.

"I'd love to."

They said their goodbyes quickly, Brooke scribbling her number down on a napkin quickly before handing it to him.

"I'll see you Friday," he said as they stood outside the café.

"Friday it is," she smiled.

With that, they both turned to face their separate ways, Brooke heading back toward her apartment while Lucas headed to find somewhere to buy a tuxedo for Friday.

Brooke hailed a cab easily, as always. She found herself in front of her building in a matter of minutes. As she stood in the elevator, she formulated the lie that she would tell Adam about why she couldn't go with him to dinner on Friday.

She slid her key into the lock and entered her apartment.

"Hey babe," Adam said, looking up from his spot on the couch. He had a pile of papers in his lap and his reading glasses lingered on the bridge of his nose, threatening to fall.

There was no denying he was sexy. He had dark messy hair and green eyes that could turn any girl to mush. He had strong hands that always made Brooke feel safe, like nothing could happen to her if he was holding her hand or embracing her in a hug.

He was one of the top lawyers in the city, and work was the most important thing to him. When he couldn't be around, he'd leave Brooke a present. And a small gift, like flowers or chocolates. Oh no. Adam was about bigger being better. He'd leave a new pair of diamond earrings, or a new iPod.

Brooke couldn't help but compare Adam to her parents. Whenever they had been absent from her life, they showered her in presents as a way to compensate. Sometimes she wondered if Adam gave her _things_ for the same reason.

"Hi fiancé," she chirped, putting on the best cheery voice she could.

_Cheery. Lucas called her Cheery._

"Listen, I can't do dinner Friday," Brooke said, the lie forming in her head.

"Why not? It's our one night together," he said sadly.

"I'm going to dinner with an old girlfriend and I might stay with her at her beach house for the weekend."

Why would she extend the Friday night date for the whole weekend? The words had come out before she realized what she was saying.

"Oh, okay, I understand," he smiled, turning his attention back to his work.

"Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she said sincerely.

Adam looked at her quizzically and stood up. He placed the papers and his glasses down on the coffee table and eased himself toward Brooke. She felt her body tense up, her stomach turning over.

_He knows I'm up to something._

_He knows_.

His serious face was now inches away from hers. Suddenly, his stone face turned into a warm smile as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She relaxed, realizing he hadn't caught on to her deception, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you, too. I can't wait to marry you," he said before planting a soft kiss on her lips.

"I love you," she repeated again, trying to ease her guilt. "I love you so much."

With that, he kissed her again, more passionately. His hand wandered to the small of her back as she kissed him harder. She reached for the button on his pants.

She didn't want to have sex with him right now, but she felt like it was the only way she could cover up her plans for Friday.

He hungrily pulled off her shirt.

She easily unbuttoned his shirts, planting a small line of kisses down his chest with every button's release.

And with that, they found themselves tangled within the sheets of their exquisite bedroom in a lavish apartment in New York City.

But Brooke couldn't help but feel guilt nab at her with _every last kiss_.


	3. My Dream Is You

"I'm gonna be home late, so just call me if you decide to spend the weekend with your friend. Love you," he said hurriedly, his voice cracking slightly over the message machine.

Brooke sighed. Adam had been working late all week, leaving little presents all over the house for her to compensate for him being gone. The other night, she had been up until 4 in the morning sketching designs because she couldn't sleep. Adam had gotten home, completely disheveled, his hair thrown about, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, moments after she crawled into bed.

But, this wasn't suspicious. He was a lawyer, and even when he was home, he was working. Hell, they could've been on their own private island with no civilization for thousands of miles and Adam would _still_ be working.

She was upset that Adam hadn't been around much, but her heart fluttered remembering that tonight was her "date" with Lucas. He was picking her up at seven, and it was now six-thirty.

She was wearing a red satin mini-dress that accentuated her long creamy legs. Her hair was in loose curls that cascaded down her shoulders. It had grown extremely long since she'd left Tree Hill, now almost grazing the bottom of her ribs. She had little make up on, save for a shiny lip gloss. But, somehow, with or without make up, she always looked phenomenal.

Before she realized how much time had elapsed, she heard her phone ringing.

"Hello?" she answered, grabbing her small black Chanel clutch.

"Miss Davis, there's a young man here for you. He isn't Adam though, just so you know!"

Brooke chuckled. "Thank you Roger, I'll be right down," she said to the apartment's head security guard.

With that, she headed down to the lobby. Butterflies danced within her stomach as she headed out of the elevator toward Lucas.

"You look _beautiful_," he said immediately, unable to control himself.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she smiled.

And he didn't. In fact, he looked great. He was wearing a crisp jacket and matching slacks, no tie. His hair was thrown around in the sexy messy way Brooke loved. He wasn't a stranger anymore. He was Lucas Scott, seventeen, star of the Ravens.

In all honesty, he hadn't changed that much. His eyes were still pools begging to be dived into. He still cocked his eyebrow when he was impressed or apprehensive.

"Ready?" he asked holding out his arm for her to take.

She looked at it, unsure of whether she should take it or not.

"Oh, c'mon Brooke. Friends," he smiled at her, seeing her nervousness.

With that, she smiled her dimpled smile at him and grabbed his arm.

And suddenly, they were seventeen and in love all over again.

"That was…" Brooke started.

"…the most boring thing I've ever experienced in my life," Lucas said laughing.

"Hey! I had a great time!"

They walked into the cold November air. Brooke felt goosebumps crawl up her arms and soon they engulfed all of her exposed skin.

"It was terrible and you know it," Lucas said looking at her. Her hair was blowing with a small gust of air that swooped past them. Brooke had a buzz from the numerous glasses of champagne passed around at the opening, but she still wasn't numb to the chilly weather.

"Here, you're cold, take this," he said as he began to strip off his jacket.

"Lucas, I don't need it… I'm fi—…"

But before she could finish her protest, he was placing the jacket over her shoulders. The heat from his body was still entrapped within the fibers and she shuddered at the sudden warmth.

"So now, can you admit how boring that was?"

"Fine," she admitted. "It was a _tad_ boring. But this is coming from the girl who attends the biggest parties of the year."

"Big shot now, are ya?" Lucas teased.

"You can say that," she smirked.

They walked by Central Park, and Lucas immediately spotted the horse-drawn carriages. One horse was white as snow, not a speck of any other color anywhere.

"We need to get one," he said, pointing in the direction of the white horse.

"Oh Lucas, c'mon, how old are we?"

"I'm 24, and you're turning 24 in January," he stated.

"Yeah, and don't you think we're a little too old for that? We're not even a couple!"

"We're _young_ Brooke. What happened to you? You would normally love something cheesy like this."

She turned to face him. His cheeks were flushed from the cold air, making his blue eyes even more pronounced. She couldn't help but feel her heart melt, even in the chilly weather.

"Yeah, I do like stuff like this…. with my _fiancé_."

"Brooke, it's a carriage ride. We can take it back to your place if you want. Or we can grab drinks... and when I say drinks I mean hot chocolate. This isn't something romantic. It's an adventure! I've never done this!" he protested.

Brooke stood, her hand on her hip, still maintaining her point.

"I'll _pay_," Lucas said in a sing-song voice.

"Fine!" Brooke said stubbornly.

Lucas smiled giddily at Brooke as they turned toward the carriages. Brooke got in as Lucas talked to the driver. There was a blanket and she immediately snuggled under it, making herself comfortable.

Lucas finally stepped in.

"Where are we going?" Brooke inquired as Lucas reached for some blanket. She reluctantly gave some to him after a quick tug-of-war.

"Through the park and back to your apartment," he said as he bundled under the little blanket Brooke could spare for him.

They drove through Central Park for a little, both silent for the most part. Brooke couldn't remember the last time she had gone through Central Park, much less in a carriage. She took in the city that she lived in for the first time in years.

Lucas, on the other hand, had never been to New York, besides when he and Brooke had visited Haley on tour, but that was mostly spent in Haley's hotel room. New York was beautiful, nothing like Tree Hill.

"Oh, young love," the driver commented, glancing back at them quickly. "How long have you two been together?"

The two looked at each other, both unsure of what to say.

"We're…" Lucas started.

"Getting married in April," Brooke stated, willing to go along with the charade. She was still feeling slightly tipsy from the champagne, and a little fun hurt no one.

Lucas looked at her quizzically, but he didn't mind. _This_ was the fun Brooke he knew.

"Oh that's beautiful. Congratulations. Where do you wanna live?" the driver asked, inquiring further about the "couple."

"Well, New York for a few years," Brooke continued with her fantasy.

"But we'll probably move back to our hometown eventually," Lucas said, speaking for the first time.

"How'd you meet?" the driver pried further.

"High school," Lucas said. "We've been dating since we were 17."

"Oh my! High school sweethearts!" the driver chuckled. "That's beautiful."

"We're gonna have three kids," Brooke interjected. "Two boys and a girl." She moved closer to Lucas hoping his body would provide more warmth for the bumps across her flesh.

"One of the boys is gonna be named Keith, after my late Uncle," Lucas said. He felt a lump in his throat at the memory of Keith. Brooke saw the look in his eye and put a consoling hand on his arm. She gave it a quick squeeze before continuing the plans for their "future."

"They're gonna be perfect. The girl will look just like me except with Lucas's eyes. One of the boys will look like Lucas's brother, and the other boy will look just like Lucas."

Lucas couldn't help but notice she didn't remove her hand, but he didn't mind at all. She had also gotten closer to him, so close, he could hear her breathing.

"And they'll play basketball at the same court I used to play at when I was young," he continued dreamily.

Brooke looked at him and couldn't help but wonder if he had thought about this as much as she had before and after they had broken up. All the plans that each of them had for their future together down the drain with a simple goodbye speech and the slamming of Lucas's door.

Suddenly, she felt Lucas's arm around her shoulders and instinctively, she moved closer to him, not feeling guilty or uncomfortable by the presence of his strong arm.

Yes, they were seventeen and in love all over again.


	4. Into The Night

Brooke found herself leaning on Lucas's chest, her eyes lazily fluttering contemplating whether or not to close completely.

She already knew what her excuse was: she had had a little too much champagne at the restaurant opening. Yes, that was the perfect excuse.

She let her eyes close completely now, blissfully unaware of how close they were to her apartment.

"Brooke, don't fall asleep," Lucas said soothingly. "We're close to your place."

She opened her eyes up slowly, not wanting the night to be over. "I don't want to go home. Let's go to my beach house. It's an hour away. We can get a car service."

"What?"

She sat up straight now, a tinge of uncertainty playing on her face, but disappearing quickly. She was silent for a moment, contemplating, but she knew what her final answer would be.

"Confession. I told Adam I was meeting a girlfriend of mine, and I might be gone for the weekend to 'her' beach house. Oops," she giggled, mentally blaming the champagne.

"Brooke… we're not going to your beach house for the rest of the weekend," he stated plainly.

"Why not? We're friends right?"

She didn't know what had gotten into her. Adam. Where was Adam right now? _Probably missing her._ Probably working late and counting down the moments until he could crawl into bed with her and place a warm kiss on the bridge of her nose before he fell asleep. But Lucas was _here_. And Lucas was her past. And Lucas was her first love.

And Lucas still had her heart.

And her gut was begging her to take a chance, to take a risk for this boy for the millionth time. She hadn't taken a risk since Lucas. Adam wasn't a risk. Adam came easily to her. Adam had a stable job. Adam got her presents. Adam was decent in bed. Adam was handsome. He was no risk at all.

And the boys before that? They came easily, too. But Lucas had never come easy, or cheap. He'd cost her heart pain, months of repair, endless pints of ice cream, constant consolation by her friends and a few too many drinks followed by a few too many one-night stands.

But she never regretted him. Never.

She wanted to regret him. She wanted to hurt him back, to find the words to rip his heart out like he had done to her.

She could never regret him.

Because he had made her happier than she'd ever been. She could be a famous designer, she could be getting married, but nothing compared to having her Broody, her boy, _her Lucas_, back in her life.

So, she was willing to take thihs chance.

"Okay, if you're sure about this…" Lucas said uncertainly. He scratched the back of his head. Of course he wanted to be with Brooke, but she was engaged. A love triangle was a dangerous thing; he'd learned that in high school. He wasn't sure if he was ready to play with those pointy edges of that simple, yet somehow, so complicated, three sided shape again.

"I'm positive," she said in her most serious face. "Let me run in to my place and grab some stuff to wear. I'll bring you down one of Adam's big t-shirts."

The name hit him like a bullet, but he ignored it.

This was _his_ chance, after all these years, to ease back into Brooke's heart, since she'd never left his.

They pulled up to the apartment building and Brooke went in, promising to be back in ten minutes. Lucas had offered to go, but she nervously waved a hand dismissively saying it wasn't necessary.

Lucas knew it was because she wasn't sure if Adam was home or not.

He stepped out of the carriage and watched her walk in, her hips swinging seductively. God, he missed touching her body. He missed the way she'd run her hands up his bare stomach cat-like and the way she'd plant a kiss on his neck and whisper the dirtiest things in his ear. He missed the lust they had. But most of all, he missed the _love _they had.

He paid the carriage driver, tipping him generously. He offered the "couple" the best of luck.

"Don't lose that one," he had said. "She's crazy about you. You can see the way she lights up when you look at her, or when she talks about your future."

Lucas promised he'd try his best and wished the man well. Brooke returned with a small piece of luggage.

She had changed into an old pair of ripped jeans that he recognized from their high school days with a white fitted t-shirt. Her hair was now half pinned back, the curls still cascading down her breasts.

"I got you a sweatshirt, t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. That's enough right? And the limo will be here in 15 minutes. The one plus to having people know your name," she smiled.

"Limo? Not necessary," Lucas said, furrowing his brow.

"What was I supposed to do? Get a taxi to drive us to the beach!? Just say thank you. I promise you'll have fun."

"Well, _thank you,_" he said letting a smile return to his face.

A few minutes later, the limo pulled up next to the curb, and the driver stepped out to open the door for the two.

"Hello Mrs. Marcus. Nice to see you again," the limo driver smiled.

"Nice to see you too James! And don't call me that! You know I like _Brooke_ better!"

"Oh of course Mrs. Marcus. I mean _Brooke_," the driver smiled.

He ushered the two into the limo and placed the luggage in the trunk.

"Marcus?" Lucas asked confusedly as they got comfortable.

"Adam's last name," she said refusing to make eye contact with him. She began pouring two cups of vodka from the crystal bottles that were provided.

"I thought you were just _engaged_…."

"We are! But, our registration at the limo company is under his name, and since I'm the future Mrs. Marcus, we made it official a little early on certain things." She kept her eyes focused on the glass of vodka. She swirled it in her hand, occasionally taking small sips from it.

Lucas watched her, holding his own glass in his hand. He never could imagine Brooke married to anyone but him. Of course he knew she'd move on after their split, but it never occurred to him that she would get _married_ eventually. He always saw himself next to her, his crisp black tuxedo looking inadequate next to the white gown she had designed for herself at _their_ wedding.

"Stop brooding already! Some things really never change," Brooke commented before taking another swig of her drink. She couldn't help but notice the drink in Lucas's cup had hardly gone anywhere. "Now, drink."

So, he listened because that's what he had always done when it came to what Brooke had to say, and he took a swig of his drink.

The driver rolled down the window that separated him from the passengers.

"We'll be there in fifteen, Mrs. Marcus," he announced before rolling the window back up.

Lucas cringed at the name. _Mrs. Scott_.

Brooke looked at him and smiled warmly. She mentally cursed herself for doing this. She knew she wouldn't regret it. She _couldn't_ regret it.

She also knew how she was walking directly back into the source of the pain that she had buried a long time ago. She was about to reopen old wounds, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for that.

But, then he smiled back at her, and the way his eyes crinkled in the corners and how one side of his mouth went higher than the other made her believe, if only for a moment, that this was meant to be.

_Yes, she did believe in fate._


	5. Pretty Girl

"_Wow_," Lucas said, regaining his speech. "This place is… unbelievable." He looked around, mesmerized by the extravagance of the beach house.

"Ya think?" Brooke called from the bedroom. She walked out, still talking. "I don't know. I mean, I've always wanted a house by the beach, but Adam didn't need to buy this monster. God, he hasn't been here in… a year or so."

_The name again._

"Why not?" he asked. He settled himself into the chocolate-colored leather couch getting comfortable. Brooke sat on the opposite end.

"Work." She found herself feeling slightly embarrassed saying this to Lucas. Her cheeks flamed slightly, but he didn't take notice. She had spent her entire life raised by nannies and other mothers and fathers, like Karen Scott and Larry Sawyer, due to her parents' prolonged absences because of _work_. Lucas had known how much she'd loved her impendence, but he also knew that she did get lonely easily. Now, she was marrying a man who was the same way her parents were and once again, she was stuck raising herself for the most part.

Lucas adjusted himself. "What does he do?" He wanted to find out how great this guy really was. _He must be doing _something_ wrong. She's here with me._

"Big time New York City lawyer," she chuckled. It was funny how cliché her life had become. It used to be all about adventure, about living in the moment, spending money she didn't always have. Now, here she was, wealthy, successful, and marrying a man whose presence was felt through new necklaces and bracelets left almost _daily _with sloppy notes saying, "I love you."

"So what about you?" she said, suddenly feeling suffocated by his questions. "How was your last relationship?"

She gulped and prayed silently that someone had come along after Peyton. She didn't want to hear about her.

"I haven't been in a real relationship since you, Brooke," he said leaning forward slightly, looking at her with disdain, as if he was angry for her asking that type of question. As if he was mad that she had tried to move on while he lingered on the past.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Then don't pretend that you don't love me anymore," he replied simply.

She turned away, unable to look at him in the eye. The comment had come unexpectedly, but inevitably. Her throat closed and she could not bring herself to form words. No defensive comeback spilled out. No nasty remarks. Just silence.

Lucas felt satisfaction warm his body.

"Look at me," he said, trying not to smirk.

She shook her head stubbornly.

"_Look at me,_ _Brooke,_" he repeated, his tone slightly harsher and more demanding.

She turned her head further away from his direction.

He stood up silently and walked to where she was sitting. He stood in front of her for a moment, her eyes turned away from what she would've been able to see of his body. He squatted down so that they were at eye level. He placed his hand on her cheek and turned her face slowly to face his own.

Finally, she looked into her eyes. She felt his hand mold around his face and chills ran up her spine. All she wanted to do was kiss him.

All she wanted to do was be seventeen, pre-Brooke-Lucas-Peyton love triangle.

"I can't, Lucas," she said before pulling his hand off. She stood up and walked toward the bedroom, closing the door behind her quietly.

Lucas remained where he was, his hand still lingering in the air, still. A few moments later, he got up and collapsed back onto the couch. He sighed heavily, knowing he had crossed the line. _She was engaged, goddammit_. She was engaged and he missed her more than anything, even if the only thing separating them was a door.

A mere door.

He closed his eyes in an effort to clear his head, if only for a second. Instead, thoughts of what an _idiot_ he had been swirled within him. He was an idiot for thinking she'd cheat on her future-husband with him. He was an idiot for finding her when he came to New York. He was an idiot for ever letting her get away.

He was an idiot for ever doubting that she was the one.

And now he was going to pay for it. He had waited too long, he had hurt her too badly, and damn straight, he didn't deserve her.

But, God, the way she looked at him made him feel like he was _something_. And he knew she cared. She had just proved it. Well, she hadn't said it, but she didn't deny it when he had made his accusation.

And that was enough for him.

He sighed again, unsure of where to go from here. The old Brooke would've wanted him to chase her into the room, but he didn't know if she still liked those things. He wasn't sure if she was still the in-denial-hopeless-romantic who wanted to be fiercely independent, but chased at the same time.

He stood up and crept quietly to the door. He pressed his ear to it lightly to get an idea of what Brooke was doing. He heard nothing.

Brooke knew he was listening to her through the door, so she didn't dare to move. Her back was pressed up against the door, her heart aching in a way she thought she had left behind so many years ago. And she knew he had gotten under her skin. He had always _been_ under her skin.

She held her breath as she made her way up from her spot toward the bed. On her tiptoes, she quietly collapsed, slowly floating into the perfectly made bed.

"Brooke." His voice was muffled through the door. Her heart told her _go. It's meant to be. Go._

But her head said something else.

Her heart ached for him in the worst way possible. In the way that wants someone so badly it hurts, but also quaking in fear of the harm that person can cause you. It's the most terrible ache, being caught between love and fear.

But her head told her no. She had given up in trusting her heart around the same time she had come to Lucas house, to tell him that she'd made a mistake by letting him go, to find Peyton brushing her teeth in his bathroom.

_His bathroom_.

So, with her head telling her no, and her heart aching in fear, she remained quiet.

"Brooke, please open up," he begged while jiggling the doorknob.

_That's not the only thing that's locked,_ Brooke thought to herself. She closed her eyes and tried to block out his pleas.

_I'm sorry. Please. Let's just talk. Brooke. Brooke. Brooke._

The way he said her name made her lip quiver, but no tears came.

She stood up and walked lifelessly to the door. She unlocked it and opened it slowly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's… ok," she lied.

She gulped.

"It's not okay, actually," she said meekly. "My heart hurts… and my head hurts, and my stomach hurts…. and my eyes hurt and I need to cry and I need to yell and… and all I ever wanted was you. And now you're here, and now I'm here, but I'm getting married…" she rambled.

He smiled weakly at her. "Come here," he said lovingly, opening his arms to embrace her. She reluctantly fell into his arms and buried her head in the cotton shirt he was wearing. It didn't smell like Lucas.

It was Adam's.

She ignored the scent and let Lucas envelope her in his arms. They stood like that for a few moments.

"I think we should go to sleep," he muffled into her chocolate waves, unenthusiastically calling an end to their embrace.

"Mhm," she mumbled, still feeling weak. "The guest room is right there," she said pointing down a short hallway.

He nodded at her and gave her a small smile before retreating toward the room.

"Goodnight Broody," she suddenly called after him.

And hearing his nickname, the nickname he hadn't heard in years, he found himself walking back toward her, fast paced. She stood confused, unsure of his sudden turn around.

He stood in front of her, her looking into his crystal eyes, him looking into her speckled hazel ones, and just as she was about to question what he was doing, he placed both hands on the sides of her face and pulled her face to his, their lips grazing, but not completely touching.

"_Lucas_," she whispered, trying to force herself to stop him.

Her hands remained frozen on her sides.

"I want you," he whispered before planting a hard kiss onto her lips. He pulled back slightly, letting his lips linger on hers for a moment before speaking again. "I want all of you."

But was she ready to let every wall she'd built crumble for this boy who had broken her so many times before?

He kissed her again softly, and she didn't back down.

She pulled back, her lips still slightly parted, her eyes opened sleepily.

"I think we should go to sleep," she said.

She backed away from him slowly and walked into her bedroom.

"_Goodnight Pretty Girl,"_ he whispered when she was out of earshot.


	6. Exposed

"The beach house?" he mumbled into the blonde's messily-wavy hair.

She nodded rapidly before planting another long-anticipated kiss on the spot behind his ear that she knew he loved. He moaned in response. She knew every spot he loved, and God, did he love how easily his hands seemed to slip into the back pockets of her jeans.

They were pressed up against a brick wall on the side of the restaurant they had come to attending religiously.

Her mouth excitedly moved from his neck to his mouth and she kissed him, softly at first. He pulled her in more forcefully and kissed her harder. No other woman had ever had this effect on him. He wanted to take her then and there. But, he also wanted to see the silhouette of her body in the shower as he reached out to the foggy glass door to join her. He wanted her wrapped up in his shirt as she headed toward the bathroom, giving him a seductive wink after. He wanted to follow after her into the kitchen and lift her up on to the counter, to have her legs wrap around his muscular torso, to have her fingers digging into his back in bliss.

But he couldn't have that here. The phone hadn't rung, his voicemail was empty, and no text messages sat in his inbox, so he had to find somewhere else to go.

This had almost become routine. Her roommate was always "entertaining" in the box that they called their apartment. His excuse was a given. And although they couldn't always do things exactly how they wanted, he had the beach house, and he loved that she didn't give a shit about the long drive or the situation at hand.

He loved her body.

They stepped into the car that he had ordered. As he made small talk with the driver for a moment, she ran her hands over his thigh, over his _lap_ and to the other thigh. He hastily put up the window that separated the back of the car from the front and let a quick moan escape him.

"Here?" she questioned, her face seemingly innocent. But he knew better. He checked to see if the separating window was tinted.

"_Here_" he agreed.

She smiled seductively and straddled him. This was the beauty of having money. It gave you privacy, even in the back of a small town-car. No one would ever see this, no one would repeat it, and no one would ever know he had been in this car with this woman who was _not_ his fiancé.

He hungrily pulled her shirt off revealing her large breasts. Her blonde hair spilled over them messily and he pushed it aside in order to get a better look. She knew he loved them, and was more than happy to comply. She reached for the hook of her red-lace bra and eased it off slowly, his eyes locked on the show she was providing. She bit her lip and he felt his heart begin to race. She always knew how to please him.

She grabbed his hand and led it to her chest and he squeezed it, making her toss her head back and moan. This encouraged him and he moved his mouth to the area. He gave one breast a single suck, and she moaned again.

Hearing her turned him on even more (if that was possible), and she felt its effect. He pulled her in closer, their bodies molding as one. She moved down his shirt, unlocking each button as she planted small kisses down his bare chest.

Once she reached the bottom, she began undoing his belt. He was still in his work clothes, do to the fact that he could never go home. He couldn't say he was working late and had to stop for clothing. No. He had to come in his work clothing. He had always apologized for the outfit, but she never minded. It actually turned her on even more. In her head, he was her sexy, young boss and she was the horny secretary who happened to be working late on a Friday night, with no intention of leaving without getting what she wanted.

And she always did.

She finally peeled away the layers leading to what she wanted. She looked into his eyes before lowering herself down to that level. She took it all in her mouth at once and he moaned loudly. She pulled herself off for a moment and giggled sexily. She loved driving him crazy. She loved teasing him.

"Do you want more?" she whispered, as if someone could hear her.

"Baby, please," he said, unable to control himself. He wanted more of her, and he _needed_ it now.

Just as she lowered herself once more, there was a click of the speaker they had become accustomed to.

"Excuse me, Mr. Marcus. We're here," the driver said over the speaker (in order to maintain the customer's privacy).

He quickly pulled his pants up to she rushed, still giggling, to put her clothing back on. She loved when this happened. It always made getting inside (or rather, him getting inside) more fun, _more exhilarating_. It's like the delay made him want her more, and she couldn't help but want more herself when she saw him looking at her in that hungry way he did.

A few minutes later, they stepped out, fully clothed, both of them with their hair strewn about and their clothing hanging messily on their bodies. He tipped the driver and thanked him before wrapping his arm around the blonde's waist. He ran his fingers over the edge of her jeans as they walked up in the darkness toward the door. It was late, but this was the routine. And she, nor he, had complaints. _It was well worth the secrecy. _He let go of her as he fished for his keys in his pocket. She squeezed his thigh to show her anticipation. This got him excited once again, and he speedily fished for his keys. He unlocked the door as fast as his hands could maneuver. Once they were inside, he immediately pushed her up against the door.

He immediately began unbuttoning her skin tight jeans to reveal her (bra matching) red thong. Without hesitation, he peeled them off and slipped a solitary finger into her.

"Adam!" she moaned, the blissful surge of electricity running through her body. The suddenness made her cry out his name, which encouraged him more.

"_Adam_," she repeated, this time lower. She moved her mouth to nibble at his ear. "Mmmm, baby," she moaned into it before nibbling at it some more.

"Adam?"

The two pulled apart to see, Brooke, standing in nothing but an old oversized t-shirt of his. Her face was stunned, frozen at the scene before her.

"Brooke…" he stuttered. "I… I can… I can explain," he said as he pushed the blonde off of him.

She felt tears burn her eyes, but they refused to release themselves. She would not show him how weak she felt. She would not.

"Fuck you. Get out," she said before turning back toward the bedroom.

"Brooke…" he said following after her. He squeezed the blonde's shoulder affectionately, as if apologizing, before following Brooke into the room.

She was sitting on the bed staring at the blank TV before her.

"Let me explain…" he started.

"I'd love to hear how you plan on explaining _this_ Adam," she sneered.

He gulped before sitting down on the bed next to her.

"I'm sorry," he said, placing his hand on the small of her back.

"Don't _fucking_ touch me, Adam," she said in the harshest whisper she could muster.

He quickly retracted his hand. They sat there in silence; Brooke staring at the blank TV, Adam staring at his hands which were folded neatly in his lap.

"How long?" she asked quietly.

"What?"

"How _fucking_ long has this been going on?" she said, still whispering.

He gulped. "A few months."

She laughed. "So, you got engaged to me while you were fucking some cheap whore? That's good. You were better off leaving me."

"I love you, though. I do, Brooke."

"Don't say that. Don't lie to my face. You don't love me. If you loved me, you would've been home instead of working late. If you loved me, you wouldn't be _cheating on me_. Especially, _especially, _after I confessed to you my _experiences_ in that department!"

"We never see each other anymore," he said plainly.

"Whose fault is that?!" she retorted, throwing her hands up in rage.

"I was working…" The lie slipped out easily, _naturally_, and it scared him.

"So how have you had time to be screwing someone else?" she asked, knowing she had caught him in yet another lie.

"I… I haven't been working late. I'm fucked up. I am really fucked up," he said. He placed his face into the palm of his hands. After a few moments like that, he ran his hands through his hair. "I am sorry. I don't deserve you. You are everything I've always wanted to be, and you've been hurt so many times. And me? I fuck up all the time. I hurt everyone I love, and I am a piece of shit."

"Shutup, Adam. Just shutup. This isn't about you. _This is about me._ For the first time in our relationship, it's about me. **You** not being around doesn't affect you, it affects me. **You **cheating _fucking affects me_."

There was a knock at the door, and the blonde pushed it open slightly. She poked her head through the small crack.

"Baby, where are we going now?" she asked quietly.

Brooke turned to Adam, her ears flaming red at the top. "Get the fuck out. Get her out, get yourself out. I'll pack my shit tomorrow. If you didn't get the clue, _we're done_."

"Brooke…?"

"Who are you?" Adam asked, his face contorting from sadness to rage.


	7. Resolve

"Lucas, not now…" Brooke said weakly. She felt like collapsing. All she wanted to do was curl under the covers and fall asleep for a long, long time until everything was resolved. She wanted to sleep until she found her happy ending.

"_Lucas?_" Adam spat out. "_This_ is Lucas? This is _cheating,_ high school basketball star, 'first love' _Lucas_?"

"Like you're any better," Brooke breathed angrily. "Lucas, do you mind leaving us alone for a second?"

"No, he can stay and listen to me calling you a _hypocrite_," Adam yelled, now standing up in front of Brooke.

"Nothing happened, man," Lucas said, stepping toward him swiftly.

"Don't get involved here, _buddy._ You've been in my place before, so you're no better."

"That was high school," he said defensively. "We're adults now, get it?"

"You don't fucking know me, _man_."

Adam and Lucas were now standing face to face. Adam felt the speed of Lucas's breathing increase as his anger rose, and warm shots of air darted past his cheeks.

"Please stop, both of you," Brooke pleaded as she herself began to stand up.

"Brooke, _sit down_," Lucas said. His eyes remained locked with Adam's, but his hand was extended to keep Brooke back from the unfolding scene.

"Don't tell her what to do!" Adam yelled as he shoved Lucas sharply.

Lucas stumbled backward.

"Stop! Don't touch him!" Brooke yelled, beginning to stand up again.

"_Sit down, Brooke,_" Lucas demanded harshly once he regained his balance. He walked slowly up to Adam and smirked before punching him straight in the nose.

Adam keeled over in pain, holding his nose. The blonde was now standing in the doorway.

"Adam!" she screeched before running over to him. She leaned over his back and rubbed it soothingly.

Adam stood up straight after wiping the blood from his nose onto his sleeve.

"Now, I suggest you leave," Lucas said calmly, "before we call the cops."

Adam went to lunge forward at him, but the blonde pulled him backwards.

"Adam! Let's just go! We can be together now! Just end it!" the blonde yelled.

She ushered him forward and Lucas moved out of the way. As they reached the doorway, he turned around. His face was defeated and angry all at once.

"I love you Brooke. I hope he makes you happy. But, just remember how much he hurt you before you put yourself through that again," he warned before leaving the room, his blonde mistress in tow.

She sat silently and listened to the door slam behind the two. She heard the sound of them stepping through the gravel driveway. For the second time in her life, someone had left her for a blonde with nice legs. For the second time in her life, she was second best to someone she had given her heart to.

"Are you okay?" Lucas whispered. He was still standing up although all he wanted to do was to take her into his arms and make her feel safe. But he couldn't bring himself to. He knew what she was thinking. And she was right. She didn't deserve to be hurt by everyone who she loved, including him.

She nodded and he could see the tears glittering in the corner of her eyes.

He slowly eased himself toward her. When she didn't stop him, he sat down next to her on the bed.

"You know, you're one of the strongest people I know," he said truthfully.

She looked at him quizzically. She had been called independent. She had been called innovative… and gorgeous… and smart. But she had never been _strong_.

"_Really_?" She looked at him. He hated seeing her so weak, watching tears form rapidly I her eyes, occasionally a stray one running down her cheek. He wanted to kiss every tear as it fell, before she could even feel it rolling down her creamy skin.

"Are you kidding me? Brooke, _look at yourself_. When we first met, you refused to let anybody in. And now? You let people in and you've gotten hurt _so many times_, yet you still keep trying."

Silent tears ran down her face. He reached out to wipe them away and she let him. Not only did she not have strength to wipe them, she didn't mind feeling his warm hands on her cheeks.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Lucas said, offering a small consoling smile.

She nodded slowly. She stood up and Lucas pulled back the covers on the bed. He ushered her under them, into their warmth and comfort. She crawled underneath them and he covered her up to her chin.

"Goodnight," he said softly before planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

She felt like a child watching him leave the room. _She felt so small._

"Lucas," she called as he reached the doorway. He stopped and turned around slowly.

"Would you… would you stay with me?" she squeaked, tears threatening to fall again.

"Anything for you," he said with a small smile. He walked toward the empty side of the bed and crawled in himself. He laid next to her, both of them staring at the ceiling in silence. He looked over at her and saw a small glistening tear falling down her face once again.

His hand made its way underneath the covers and found hers. He laced his fingers between hers and she didn't resist. This was enough to make Brooke completely breakdown. She turned onto her stomach and nestled her face into his chest.

"How could he do this to me?" she cried into him. He sat up now and took her into his arms. She sat limply in his arms, her head still in his chest.

"Because… he didn't know what he had when he had it," he said softly, stroking her hair. He was speaking from experience, but he wouldn't tell her that.

She continued to cry into him for awhile, eventually, her sobs fading into small, occasional hiccups. And after awhile, she became silent, breathing slowly.

"Brooke?" Lucas whispered, still stroking her back. When she didn't answer, he laid her down to sleep. He laid her so she was facing his direction and he laid down so that their faces were toward each other.

"Lucas?" she mumbled sleepily, her eyes fluttering slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He smiled to himself as he watched her sleep. Although he definitely wasn't happy about how Adam had treated her and watching her hurt made _him_ hurt, it did prove one thing to Lucas.

_They were meant to be_.


	8. Clarity

**What did everyone think about the OTH Fastforwards so far (if you've seen them)? Lucas and Brooke are up, so go check it out!**

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It's amazing how someone's arms can make you feel so safe, so complete, _so normal._

She awoke feeling small, but in the way that was _okay _because it was the kind of small that fit like a puzzle piece into his arms. Her heart still ached from being crushed so effortlessly by someone she _thought_ she knew, but when didn't it ache? It had ached since she had come to say goodbye to Lucas before she and Peyton met at the airport only to be held back by her newfound insecurities. She hadn't gone to say goodbye to Chase, she hadn't gone to see Haley and Nathan. Something had brought her to his house, and she couldn't bring herself to ring the doorbell. So, she walked away, arms crossed over her chest, head bent down, as if she was afraid to be seen.

So this ache wasn't different, it was just _stronger_. She had learned to push this ache away, but something in her stomach always knew it would return.

And here it was again, stabbing into her like a razor. But this time was different.

This time she had someone to be her safety net.

The past times she had had her heart broken, it had been by her best friend and her boyfriend, leaving her alone to pick up the pieces. But this time, if she could find the strength to trust him, to tell him everything, she could let Lucas help her fix everything.

But as she lay in his arms, his heart beating ever so slowly underneath her ear as her eyes remained shut, she wasn't sure if she had the ability to let someone in. But she needed to. She knew she had to.

He was awake, she knew that, but she couldn't bring herself to move from her spot. His warmth made her feel okay, if only temporarily. She knew she'd have to get out of bed and she knew she'd have to face everything, but for now, she wanted to remain still.

_It's amazing how someone's arms can make you feel so safe._

Lucas yawned softly, trying to muffle the sound with his hand. That was her cue to flutter her eyes opened and take in the harsh day light that flooded the room through large glass windows.

"Hey sleepyhead," he said lazily.

"Hey," she said sleepily.

His skin suddenly felt like electric against her, and not the good kind of electric that made her fall in love with him time and time again. It was electric in the way that his arms that had been so comfortable moments ago were now suffocating, and she needed to break away from his touch.

The sleepy thoughts were now gone, replaced by pain that was real; pain that wouldn't heal this _very_ moment.

Lucas didn't question her sudden movement. He understood. He had watched himself put her through the same thing all those years ago. He had watched her unable to find the means to be intimate with anyone, not even her friends.

"How you feeling?" he asked once she was a safe distance away.

The words made her chest ache and head hurt in a familiar way.

"I'm… I'm okay, surprisingly," she said with a weak smile.

Although she _was _hurting, something told her this was for the best. At least it was **before **the wedding. At least it was before she had _legally_ given him her heart.

_Some good things fall apart so better things can fall together_, she thought to herself. And the better thing seemed to be in front of her, but she wasn't sure if she was ready for it. Adam had been so familiar, with his prolonged absences and his casual tossing around of those three words she had loved to hear. Lucas wasn't that comfortable, nor had he ever been. He had always been full of surprises. Most of these surprises she loved, like when he'd stop by her house with coffee and a quick kiss before he went to see Keith, before he died. Or when he'd told her it was _her,_ not Peyton, who he wanted.

But then there were the other surprises that made her ache like she was aching in this very moment.

"I'm starving. You have food here, right?"

His voice easily broke through her thoughts. No. They didn't have food. Apparently, Adam _had_ been here recently, but he probably wasn't spending time eating when he had that bodacious blonde to satisfy his hunger.

Her heart ached again at the thought.

"No…" she said embarrassed. "But, there's a supermarket a few blocks away?"

"I'll go," he said kindly as he got out of the plush bed.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, you rest. Give me an hour and you'll have the perfect breakfast waiting for you. But you _are_ getting out of bed at some point today, princess."

"_Fine,_" she said, dragging out the word playfully.

Hearing his voice made it all go away.

His presence made it bearable.

She pulled the covers up to her chest.

"Can you lay with me, for a few more minutes?" she asked, ever so innocently. Her face was sad, but not in the way that Lucas had expected it to be.

"Yeah, I can," he said warmly before crawling back into the bed next to her.

They were laying side by side when Brooke decided to speak.

"I don't know if it hurts because I really loved him or just because this isn't the first time someone has cheated on me."

Lucas remained silent for a moment, trying to find the words to say.

"Maybe it's a little bit of both."

"I hate feeling this weak."

"I hate seeing you feel weak, especially when you're stronger than anyone I know."

"Don't start that again."

He was taken aback at the comment. "Telling you your strong is a crime now?" he said, clutching his chest in exaggerated surprise.

"I'm not strong. If I was strong, I would've never let you go. If I was strong, you wouldn't have left me for Peyton. If I was strong, I wouldn't have settled for Adam. If I was strong, I would've left him before he had the chance to leave me."

He leaned in slowly and put his hand onto her cheek. She closed her eyes and let herself be comforted by his warm hand. She let her feelings go, she let her mind clear, she let everything dissolve around her save for the feeling of his strong, warm hand on her cheek.

"You are stronger than anyone, and you are going to get past this."

She opened her eyes and looked into his deeply. She didn't know what she was looking for. Reassurance? Safety? _Love_?

"How do you know?"

"Because, _you have me_."

And with that, she dove in quickly and found her lips pressed against his. He smiled as her lips pressed harder against his.

She pulled back.

"It's so clear. It's finally clear," she said bringing her hand to her forehead in bewilderment. It finally made sense to her.

"What is?" Lucas said confused, her taste still lingering on his lips leaving them itching to press against hers again.

"_Just kiss me_."

And with that, he dove in this time to kiss her, his hand on the back of her neck, both of them smiling against each other.


End file.
